


A Riverside Interlude

by idlesuperstar



Series: The Life And Death Of Sugar Candy [3]
Category: Life and Death of Colonel Blimp (1943), Powell & Pressburger - Fandom
Genre: M/M, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-12
Updated: 2013-03-12
Packaged: 2017-12-05 02:41:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,625
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/717927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/idlesuperstar/pseuds/idlesuperstar
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Was there anything better than this? Out here, free, peaceful, just himself and Theo.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Riverside Interlude

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place about a week after _Rain_.
> 
> Series notes [here](http://archiveofourown.org/series/36980)

This time, Theo hadn’t even come into Clive’s room. He’d stood at the window, the sun bright behind him, with his tunic loose at the neck and that wide smile and called “Clive! Kommen, ja? Come, now!” and God help him, Clive had been out of the window before he could think. No time even to grab his overcoat. But - glorious day that it was - it was warm enough without. 

And now they were rambling down their usual path, Theo’s arm a warm weight across his shoulders, Theo gesturing with his cigarette as he talked excitedly. 

“My friend - was für ein schöner Tag, yes?1 Fine day? Es is ein - _too good_ \- Gelegenheit zu verpassen - miss, yes? Eine Änderung for you - for your Schulter - shoulder. Baden!”  2

Clive barely made out one word in three, found he didn’t care, really, when Theo was bright and boyish like this. When had Theo ever steered him wrong? Oh, and the air was fresh and clean, the trees green with new leaves. And here he was with his friend.

And then they were passing their usual stopping place, where Clive had made a fool of himself with his shoulder a couple of weeks before. He blushed, thinking of it. Thinking of Theo and his easy offer of help. His continued easy help. Further along now, to where the trees were denser in the bank, and the water sparkled with sunlight.

“Hier, yes?”

“Here yes, what?”

“Clive! Do you not listen?”

“I listen, old chap. I just don’t understand.”

“Baden! Ach!” Theo threw his hands up in frustration. He gestured to the sparkling water. “Schwimmen!”

“Swimming!” Clive said, finally understanding. Oh yes! That would be splendid. But - oh - was it wise? He hesitated, torn. 

“Are you _erschrocken,_ 3 my friend?” asked Theo, and there was no mistaking the goading tone, even if the word was unfamiliar. 

“I’ll show you ‘erschrocken’!” he retorted, unbuttoning his jacket. Theo beamed back at him, throwing his cigarette end away and starting on his own buttons. Clive took his jacket off and folded it neatly, looking around for a safe place to put it. He paused. What were they doing? The nurses would have their hides if they found them.

“Theo!”

“Clive?” Theo looked at him, halfway out of his tunic. Clive froze for a moment, at the sight of Theo, bright in the sunlight, shirt pulled taut across his chest. Clive looked down at his jacket. His jacket! 

“What if someone sees us?” Oh, what a coward he felt for saying it.  

“Clive!” and oh, the teasing reproach in his voice. “Come. Sehen?” taking Clive’s elbow and leading him through the trees, right to the water’s edge. Well, there was cover, to be sure. He looked at Theo.

“You’ve been here before!” _without me,_ he thought with a pang. 

“Just to look, ja? Ich hoffte.4 Hoped, yes?” and oh, his face. A boy sharing his secret hideaway. 

“Alright” said Clive, smiling back, putting his jacket on a clear patch of grass. Theo patted his arm, smiling. It was like with his shoulder. Impossible to say no to Theo in this mood. He took off his tie, rolled it neatly, placed it on his jacket. Collar studs next, into his waistcoat pocket for safety. Damn these collars! Theo had forgone his again, Clive saw, as Theo pulled off his scarf and started unbuttoning his shirt. Cufflinks into the other pocket, and his waistcoat joined his jacket. Shirt now. Theo was pulling his half unbuttoned shirt over his head in his haste. Clive caught a glimpse of his taut belly and chest before Theo’s face emerged and he dropped his shirt to the ground. Clive folded his own shirt neatly. Theo’s bandage had slipped a little. Oh! thought Clive, if that got wet they’d never sneak back past the nurses.

“Theo - ” he said, and Theo looked up from his boots. Clive coloured a little under his enquiring gaze.  

“Your bandage, old horse” he said, gesturing. “Can it come off?” he mimed as best he could. “Best not get it wet, eh?” pointing to the water. 

“Ach, yes,” said Theo, straightening, putting blind hands up to his head, searching for the ends. 

“Oh, here, I’ll do it.” said Clive impatiently, and he had his hands on Theo’s bare shoulders before he knew what he was doing. Theo’s skin was warm under his palms, Theo’s eyes almost blue in the sunlight. Clive looked at the bandage, trying to focus his thoughts. God. Yes. He turned Theo around; there, that was better. It was fastened somewhere at the back. If he fumbled, at least it wasn’t under Theo’s gaze. He found the end, unpinned it, began unwinding. Theo bent his head forward to help, the nape of his neck strangely vulnerable. Clive put a hand on Theo’s shoulder for a moment to steady himself. The familiar scent of Theo’s pomade. Theo’s shoulder warm under his hand. This was only like Theo working on his shoulder. The bandage came suddenly free, and Clive lifted his hand to catch the end. Theo’s hair was flattened in places where it had been wound, but the short hairs at his nape were sticking up untidily. Clive smoothed them down without thinking. The shape of Theo’s skull under his fingers. God. And then Theo was lifting his head, scrubbing fingers through his hair, messing and tidying it at the same time. Clive stood stupidly with the bandage in his hands before handing it back to Theo. Theo took it, turning, and Clive stole a glance at his forehead. There was sticking plaster over the scar, still. Clive was oddly disappointed. 

“Are you sure it’s safe, old thing?” he asked.

“‘Safe’?” 

“Your plaster.” reaching out but not quite touching. “Does it hurt?”

“Hurt? Oh. Ja, ein wenig.”5 Then he was grinning, as if to say _why are we still talking?_ and bending down to take his boots off. 

Clive turned his attention to his own laces. Shoes and socks. He almost envied Theo his lack of care, but it wouldn’t do to get dirt on his clothes. Not if they had to run the gauntlet of the nurses afterwards. He unfastened his trousers, stepped out of them. Yet Theo was never less than perfectly turned out. He must be one of those lucky people who always looked smart, no matter what. Theo was down to his underwear already, as if getting undressed was a race. _Last one in’s a rotten egg_ echoed from his schooldays. He would not be last! He stripped his underwear off almost in tandem with Theo and then they were running and jostling and plunging into the water and dear Christ it was _freezing_! He couldn’t help but shout at the shock of it, rather an unmanly shout, and Theo was laughing like a lunatic, plunging further in until he was up to his waist. Faint heart, thought Clive, following him at a splashing run. He ducked in as far as his shoulders then surged up again, water streaming from him, sloshing at his waist. God! Like the plunge pool at the turkish baths. The sun warmed his shoulders and chest. How he wanted to dunk his head, but he’d never get his hair dry in time. He rubbed cold water over his face, shook himself like a dog. Glorious! Freezing, but glorious!  He’d be shivering soon, but it was worth it for this, for even a few minutes of this freedom. 

Theo was still laughing, larking about like a boy, his hair falling into his eyes as he splashed. Clive crouched down, leant back as far as he dared without wetting his hair. Clear blue sky, warm sun; how freeing it was, bathing outdoors! Nothing but the sound of Theo’s happy splashing. Clive brought his feet off the bottom, floating freely. His neck was straining with keeping his hair out of the water. Oh, sod it! he thought, and lay back fully. God! So cold that it hurt. But the sun was warm on his face, his chest, his thighs. He would get used to it. He closed his eyes, kicking his feet gently to stay afloat, spreading his arms out. Was there anything better than this? Out here, free, peaceful, just himself and Theo. He drifted, felt the blood singing through his veins, heard the muffled splashes, the sound of his own breathing. Like being in another world, just the two of them. 

It had gone quiet, he realised. He opened one eye, looked sidelong at Theo. He was standing still, stretching, hands behind his head, water slapping at his belly, eyes closed and face turned towards the sun. He looked like a statue, in this light. Except, no, no he didn’t. He was lean muscles and perfect proportions, but he was flesh and blood, warm and alive. Clive flushed, felt his pulse quicken. Theo’s hands, warm on his arm. Theo’s arm, slung heavily across his shoulders. Theo’s breath, hot against his neck, Theo’s strength, pushing against him. But, Christ, to see him like this! Clive had never expected _this_. How many boys and men had he undressed alongside, bathed with, at school and in barracks? And Theo was his friend. But, God. Look at him. He was beautiful, in the sunlight. To have this brief moment to gaze freely. A rare gift. Clive felt a throb of arousal, felt his cock stir. God, no! Theo must not see! He stopped kicking, let himself sink abruptly, in a flurry of splashing. Resurfaced, wiping his eyes, to see Theo splashing over to him, laughing again, a mischievous look on his face. Clive had barely time to get his feet under him before Theo was splashing water at him. Oh yes? And with a great yell Clive launched a counter attack. And then Theo was away, laughing, yelling, as Clive chased, splashing water at his back. Water dripping off his shoulder blades, the bumps of his spine. Muscles working and gleaming in the sun. And oh! Clive could not feel sorry for loving it. This would be his only chance to look his fill. How few days they had left, here. This was an unexpected gift. He flicked wet hair out of his eyes, redoubled his efforts, sloshing after Theo, the silty sand smooth under his feet. Theo’s hair, all adrift, the lovely line of his back. Clive was almost upon him when Theo turned and flung a whole armful of water at him. Clive was blinded, water in his mouth, up his nose, shaking it out of his hair, spluttering. 

“Oh, Clive!” Theo was laughing, the pig. “Verzeihen Sie!6 _Sorry!_ ” sounding not the least bit sorry at all. Clive coughed, blinking his eyes open. Theo put warm hands on his shoulders, looked at him, brushed his wet hair off his forehead for him. God. His hands. 

“You’re not sorry at all, you cad!” he managed, but could not suppress his smile. He’d grasped Theo’s arms, and they stood breathing together for a moment. Like when they had wrestled. But more than that. Theo’s chest, wet and flushed, heaving. The ends of Theo’s hair were wet, falling down around his ears, onto his forehead. Clive lifted a tentative hand, touched the sticking plaster lightly. Still dry. That was lucky. Theo tensed, suddenly, under his hands. 

“Sorry, old thing” Clive said, letting go. “I forgot it would hurt. Still dry, though.” he said, covering his error. “Not like your hair - ” he tugged gently at the wet ends of Theo’s hair. How he wanted to smooth a hand through it. He stopped himself. He could not bear the thought of Theo pulling away. Did not want to ruin their friendship. That meant more. He took a breath, smiled at Theo. Theo’s arm was goosepimpled under his hand. He smoothed his hand down it, trying to warm him.

“Getting cold, the both of us” he said ruefully. “I think we’d best get out, eh?” He realised he was still rubbing Theo’s arm. 

“Ja. You give up?” asked Theo, straightening up, shaking himself.

“Ha!” said Clive, rubbing his own arms now. “Quits, I call it!” and he turned towards the bank, striding quickly through the water, Theo splashing behind him. God he was cold now! He’d soon get warm, though, out of the water. He shook his head again, heard Theo’s yelp as water hit him. Turned his head laughing to see Theo’s face; he was put out, but still smiling. What a sight. Clive scrambled out, sat on the grassy bank squeezing the water out of his hair. He regretted getting it wet now. 

Theo thumped down beside him, smoothing his hair back. He twisted round, one long smooth stretch of muscle, scrabbling through his clothes; emerged triumphant with cigarettes and matches. He lit two, passed one to Clive, then lay back, pillowing his head on his arm, one knee bent, eyes closed. Clive propped himself up on one arm, stretched his legs out. How right this was! Imagine if anyone saw, what a fuss they’d make. And yet it was the most natural thing in the world, to sit naked on the grass, smoking in the sun, Theo stretched out beside him. He chanced a glance. Theo still had his eyes closed, head turned slightly away. He had such a handsome profile. The taut stretch of his neck, the wet ends of his hair curling over his ears. The lean smoothness of his arm, the flush on his chest. Clive could not help but look. To have such leisure to look! To see all of him, beautiful and free like this. The smooth skin of his belly, the dark trail of hair. The lovely strong stretch of his wet thigh, the shadow of his hipbone, the soft pink loveliness of his cock. Clive tore his gaze away, sat up, arms propped on his knees. He looked out onto the glittering water, took an unsteady drag on his cigarette. How Theo had crept into his heart! He’d had feelings for boys before, of course, at school, and a couple of lads in the army. And some experience. But this, this was different. _Theo_ was different. Clive couldn’t explain it. He just knew that the man by his side would be a friend for life. And that must be enough. Too precious to risk spoiling. Clive shivered. God he was cold now. But let this moment not end. Just to be here, together, content. He’d risk freezing to stay with Theo in this moment. He was terribly aware, suddenly, of how little time they had left together. No, he would not allow sadness in. He flung his cigarette end into the water, risked a look back at Theo. He was finishing his cigarette, gazing idly at Clive through the smoke. Clive smiled, couldn’t suppress another shiver. 

“You’re cold, mein Freund.”

“A bit.”

“We should go.”

“I know.” Clive couldn’t keep the regret out of his voice. Theo chuckled quietly.

“Ja. Ich Weiß.” 7 Well, it was something to know that Theo was as reluctant to move as he. Clive leaned back on his elbows, content suddenly. What did it matter, any of it, so long as he and Theo were in accord? He smiled at his friend, and then Theo was rising gracefully to his feet, and holding out a hand to Clive. And when, Clive thought, reaching up to grasp it, to be hauled to his feet, when would I ever not take his hand?

 

 

 

* * * * * * *

 

Footnotes:

1 What a beautiful day - 

2 It is too good an opportunity to miss - a change for your shoulder. Bathing!

3 scared

4 I hoped

5 A little

6 Sorry!

7 Yes. I know.

**Author's Note:**

> The Stölphchensee is a canal, I know, and not a river. But 'A Canalside Interlude' sounds a little less bucolic.
> 
> Thanks as ever to **jennytheshipper** for her sterling beta work, and to **tea-with-theo** for making Theo's German much better than mine, and to both of them for joining in with _helpful_ noises about Theo's shoulderblades.


End file.
